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Friday, October 11, 2013

The Magicalist Place on Earth

Let me
say upfront, there is no way and place where 5 gazillion people gather in one
limited space that can be considered “magical”. Last night as I walked to
the buses with all 5 gazillion, was my worst nightmare. That being said, Walt
Disney World has become a remarkable kind of vacation for people from all
over the world.

The
decision makers in the company, realizing how their customer base has changed,
transitioned to policies that made good business sense. Without Walt, who was
homophobic and I think a little bit of a racist, Disney World has opened it’s
arms to people who are different colors, sizes, ethnicities Gay,
Lesbian, and whatever I forgot. We are at Disney World for a most
joyous occasion. Our friends, Tevy and Scott, wonderful young men are getting
married. They couldn’t officially get married in Florida, because they
are not allowed, (what a sadness), but they took their vows at the Wedding
Plaza, and celebrated them in the park. Cinderella transportation
included. The grooms looked gorgeous.

It is a
month of weddings for us. Last week we went to a family wedding in Miami.
The bride and groom looked gorgeous, (yes they all did). The ceremony was
outdoors on a balmy Florida evening, and then the party began. We all
danced and danced and danced -- the younger people danced til dawn. We didn’t
dance til the sun came up, but we held our own. The sun was coming up
somewhere, probably Ankara or Ibiza, but dance we did.

The new
trend in weddings, which is to do whatever the happy couple want to do, is most
refreshing. I remember at my first wedding, which was incredibly
stressful, we did whatever our parents wanted us to do -- making it their
wedding not ours. For example, an orthodox Rabbi conducted the
service. It was a service not a ceremony, that went on and on and on. At
one point, the Rabbi was saying some blessing, holding a glass of red
wine and he was not paying attention. It was aimed directly at my
dress. As he spoke the wine came closer and closer. Every time it came closer
my mother pulled me back, until finally, by the end of the service, I was at
least three big steps away from the groom. The guest list was constructed
by the parents. And the food -- well as my friend Mark said, “I think this was
the roast beef I left from the wedding last week.”

The
wedding was not without it’s memorable moments. My cousin, in whose car
all my luggage for the honeymoon resided, got a little tipsy. He fell in the
pool, lost the keys, and they had to break into the trunk. Then my uncle, at
whose apartment we were staying in Miami, decided that we would have more fun
if he went on the honeymoon with us.... and he was right.

Anyway,
I got over it and married the right person on the second try. That
wedding deserves it’s own blob.

Next week
we are driving to Maryland for another wedding and we are sure it will be
grand. A few days ago I was trying to explain how I felt about all this
and I decided I can only be described as this: Mother Slut has become a Wedding Slut. I always wanted to be
a slut and, at least this way, I can be one happily every after. It’s Magical. We’re just sayin’…Iris